Drunk
by bocajenjy
Summary: Grantaire doesn't seem to take Enjolras' death very well.


Grantaire woke up with a light and a killing headache. The unfamiliar scent invaded his nose as he opened his eyes, blinking, and caught himself in some stranger's bed, with said stranger sleeping soundly beside him.

Damn it, not again.

He disentangled himself from the sheets and took one last look at the man before grabbing the discarded clothes and heading to the door. Tonight's stranger was blond. Not _his _blonde, not _his_ golden curls. But blonde nonetheless.

Shit.

Grantaire left before Mr. Stranger could wake up and open the blue eyes Grantaire was sure he had, but not before grabbing a beer in his way out.

-x-

"Hey" he said; his voice hoarse "I made a mistake. Another one" he stumbled in the direction of the marble grave. Oh, the irony of that didn't scape even his drunken mind. "Well, more than another one, I guess" Grantaire said, looking at his clock (9:00 AM) and at the bottle clutched to his hand.

"It's just..." he took a deep breath "it's just that..." he tried again "I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, Enjolras" with that, his whole body started to shake with the broken sobs that escaped through his mouth.

"I miss you so much and I don't know where to go without you, _how_ to keep going without you." a humorless laugh escaped his lips "Fuck this, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just stuck with the same miserable drunk me. You made me better, you know?" the morning air heard a sob "and now" and another one "you're gone" and another one "and even so I keep disappointing you." He was fully crying at this point, beer forgotten while Grantaire kneeled and buried his face in his hands, failing to hold back the sobs.

"I'm sorry, Apollo. I am so very sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry my love. Please, Enjolras, please come back to me, I am nothing without you. Please, I am sorry... I wish I could have you again, wake up beside you, have you holding me, hugging me, making me whole."

He continued with the senseless ramble for a while, but it was okay. The cemetery staff was getting used to the drunken man with the raven hair.

-x-

Grantaire ignored his ringing phone and waited until the call fell in the voice mail. Again. It was the tenth time someone called, though he hadn't bothered to figure out whom. It was the beginning of January and even with the heater on Grantaire couldn't shake the coldness inside him. Had Enjolras been ali- here, he wouldn't feel so cold. He and Apollo would cuddle in the couch - or, more likely, naked in bed - and they would keep each other warm.

-x-

_They had been together for two months. Grantaire still couldn't believe his luck but waking up with Enjolras in his arms was convincing him._

_"I love you" he blurted without thinking. To his relieve his lover (boyfriend, a little voice in his head reminded him) answered soon:_

_"I love you too"_

_And then their lips met, simple like that. Grantaire snorted, they were anything but simple._

_"What?" Enjolras asked._

_"It's nothing. Except… I'm still wondering why you are here. With me, I mean. Sometimes I think I am dreaming, but when I open my eyes you are still here. I keep thinking you are going to leave me."_

_"You won't get rid of me that easily, Grantaire." He smiled sweetly "I'm not leaving anytime soon. In fact, I don't think I'm leaving at all." He said, and kissed him passionately. _

Grantaire opened his eyes. The light that poured through the window indicated the end of the afternoon. The tears started rolling down his cheeks.

"But you left me. You did left me! Why, Enjolras?"

-x-

He woke up in a red room. _You've got to be fucking kidding me. _Beside him, a blond girl slept soundly. _Yes, you are fucking kidding me._ She moved in her sleep, enveloping him in her arms. Just like _he_ used to do and just like _he_ won't ever do again. Silent tears streamed down his face.

-x-

Walking on the streets was torturous. You could see worried people, sad people, happy people, angry people, people in love. It was terrible. Anywhere Grantaire looked - the bar, where a group of friends was laughing; the square, where a guy was shouting about corruption and freedom; the bench, or the park, or the streets of Paris in general, where happy couples were smiling at each other - reminded him of Enjolras. Especially the happy couples hugging each other, the way they did sometimes.

Oh, how he missed those walks.

-x-

It was snowing, it was January, it was 5:00 PM and Grantaire was already drunk. Extremely drunk, indeed. But giving a better thought, it would be hard to see Grantaire while sober in the last months. In that specific moment he was stumbling I the direction of the marble grave where the marble man was buried, holding a bottle of absinthe and blasting music in his earphones. It was their song, simply because it didn't mean anything for neither of them.

"Hey, Enjorlas… Enolrras… Enj! Hey, there. You know what? You are a bastard. You left me and who gave you the right to do that? That's right, NO ONE! So can you please tell me why you are not here?" Grantaire fell on the ground in front of the stone, holding himself like one tries to hold pieces of a sculpture before it falls apart. "Why can't you tell me? Why don't you talk to me? You were supposed to be helping me, for fuck's sake! That's what you told me when we first started dating, wasn't it? That you would be here to help me and that you would not leave me so soon? Please, Apollo, talk to me… I've been worse than ever without you…" he threw one arm around the grave while the other lifted the bottle to his lips once more. "I miss you, and I have been doing some fucked up things now you are not here. But I don't want you to be here… I don't want to see the mess I've become… But I need you to see me, I need to see _you_. And I need to apologize to you for everything I've ever said and everything I've ever done, because I'm nothing without you. And I know I don't deserve you, for more you say otherwise, because what kind of monster fights with the man he loves every other day? I am so sorry, for everything. I am so sorry for arguing over stupid things. I am so sorry for being a jackass. I am so sorry for not being a better man. I am so sorry for my attitude for the last months. But most of all I am so sorry for not attending that last rally. It was my fault, I should've been there, I should've protected you, supported you, I shouldn't have let you di-" The yell that ripped the air sounded more like an injured animal than a human, but that was exactly how Grantaire felt: like an animal.

-x-

Hours later, when the cemetery was being closed, the janitor would come to find a dark haired man lying upon the majestic marble grave. Said man would be as cold as the stone bellow him, and said man would be taken to a hospital and declared dead by a sad young hypochondriac doctor. Alcohol poisoning, they would say in his funeral.

And said man would be buried beside the marble grave, orbiting the other dead body like his soul had once done when alive.


End file.
